


The Boogeyman

by SleepyEmily



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Pitch doing his daily business
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-01-20 07:06:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 6,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1501259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepyEmily/pseuds/SleepyEmily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of one-shots/drabbles focusing on Pitch and his life both before and after the film. No order to any of it, but the years on certain events will be listed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

****

 

 _"They're_ collecting the teeth?!" Pitch disbelievingly half turned to the messenger but was cut short from receiving any more information as the small fairies all twittered, excitedly hopeful at the news, and turned to share the joyfulness with their sisters.

"Shut up or I'll stuff a pillow with you!" Pitch snarled at them, making them settle down a little, he looked back down from the chirping fairies to the floor with an unhappy frown, insecurity reaching up to niggle in his thoughts.

They're were stopping children from not believing! This wasn't supposed to happen!

Pitch ground his teeth together in a brief grimace of worry before glancing at the approaching nightmare who was sniffing curiously at him. He looked back at the creature and made such a vicious snarl in its direction that it backed off immediately with an alarmed noise; to show who was dominant, who was master and maker.

He couldn't afford to show any insecurity now, his nightmares could pick fear out of any negativity, even he was not immune to that.

"Fine, have your last hurrah," Pitch spoke, his voice now calm and calculated. "For tomorrow all your pathetic scrambling will be for nothing."

Pitch lifted a hand, transforming the mare back into swirling dream sand and beckoned it towards him, better to be safe than sorry to make sure it didn't alert any of the others to their master smelling of worrisome thoughts.

The boogeyman could adapt easily enough.

He would not fail.


	2. Chapter 2

****   


 

A slither of dream sand trickled down through the window and immediately formed a golden halo above the boys head, lazily circling as though it wasn't sure what the boy was dreaming.

Pitch stood from where he had perched at the boys desk and came closer, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the sand. He had been watching for a good few years now, seeing how he could perfect this trick of nightmares.

Simply touching a good dream, sometimes it goes the opposite of what that dream was or it would just make that dream horrible but still have that situation for example; a boy playing football and getting a goal and being cheered on by his peers would change to his friends making fun or yelling at him as he failed to score a goal.

Or if Pitch was in a particularly bad mood, he found, it influenced the dream more, making it darker and scarier and was usually straight out of the child's subconscious and showed what their worst fear was.

It was all so very interesting to Pitch and he loved to experiment.

The child in front of him now was one of his guinea pigs, so to speak, he had a few children of different ages all over the world, separated just in case the Sandman caught on. This child was the second oldest of the test subjects; at fourteen.

His dreams were usually of playing with friends, football or talking or playing tag etc.

Quite a boring child, Pitch usually thought.

Firstly Pitch would watch the dream take shape into whatever it was the children loved, then he would touch the sand and turn the wonderful dream into a nightmare whilst taking some sand for his own at the same time.

It was a tedious and lengthy process but it would be worth it and Pitch could certainly be patient.

The sand shifted into a small version of the boy stood alone with a girl walking towards him, presumably for another dull game of tag, and so Pitch reached out to touch the dream but stopped short at the sudden escalation of the child's dream.

Pitch smiled, almost sarcastically at the sight of the two child sand figures sharing a simple kiss and a hug.

"How sweet," Pitch cooed at it. "I wonder how this will turn out..."

His smile got wider in an open and mischievous grin as he once again reached out to the sand but was stopped again, his expression one of unsure surprise.

Well he supposed it was usual, he was fourteen after all, children grow so fast these days.

For a moment the Nightmare King wavered, hesitating, not knowing whether to continue with his work or leave the uncomfortable situation of watching a teenagers first wet dream.

Pitch glanced to the floor, away from the image, to think for a second.

"Why not?" Pitch asked himself, looking back to the boy with a grin. "I hope you won't be too traumatised by a nightmare version of this dream."

Pitch did more than merely poked the dream and waved his hand straight through it, distorting the picture into quite a dark and gruesome image, making the boy whimper and struggle in his sheets as the dream girl pinned him down, her face now demonic as she leaned down to him.

"Oooh dear," Pitch bit his lip as he cheekily smiled. "Now that's disturbing."


	3. Chapter 3

****   


Pitch sat, slumped down like a sulking child on a broken dining chair across from his globe. He had first been smirking at the idea that one day there will be no more lights of children who believe but slowly his pessimistic thoughts had wheedled him down to the fact that his plan hadn't lifted off the ground yet.

He hadn't even gotten much of the Sandman's sand yet and that was a crucial part of the scheme.

Nowhere near enough sand.

Pitch huffed and nudged some debris near his foot, hard enough to send it skittering down the stairs on his right. He listened to the stone echoing throughout his home and realised how deafening the silence was after the rocks descent had stopped.

The stillness stretched on...

Pitch's face fell, his eyes now downward though he stared at nothing, his expression one of sad loneliness.

The Boogeyman; Nightmare King, Pitch Black was lonely and tired of being alone and hated for what he was.

Pitch closed his eyes, his hand coming to prop his forehead up as he leaned on it with a sigh, when would feeling like this stop?

Looks like today is going to be a bad day...

 


	4. Chapter 4

****

A slight dark form was the only movement that gave away the presence of the Nightmare King as he glided through a forest at two am on the outskirts of a small village somewhere in Croatia, he had grown bored of his home and had left in search of some much needed fear.

He was very close now to kick start his plan of ridding the world of the believers and in doing so, the Guardians.

From the mere thought of it Pitch cracked a smile as he strolled down a small worn dirt path that led to the main road, he glanced up at the veiled moon and stars underneath a canopy of trees that hid him in shadows.

Good, he didn't feel like sneaking around from his old friend in the Moon today. Besides this wasn't for work gaining more sand or nightmares, this was for pleasure of the fearful kind, a small pick-me-up.

There was no sound, movement or hint of fear of any kind that alerted Pitch to the fact that he was suddenly no longer alone; it was more of a sense that one would hone over the years when they weren't particularly well liked by anyone else. Sometimes he needed to be careful.

It surprised the Boogeyman that someone had snuck up on him and he turned quickly to face this silent person; sneer in place and retort on his lips, which died before it could fly free when he saw who it was.

Another spirit of course from the look of it; tall, pale face with no features nor hair and wearing a black suit and tie as though it were human. It was just stood there, half behind a tree a good twenty feet away from him.

Neither Pitch nor the spirit moved, rather comically Pitch raised his chin with a look of humoured disdain. Personally Pitch thought it looked hilarious; like someone wearing a white sock over their head. He knew vaguely who it was; quite a number of children had had fears of this spirit, and many adults too.

May as well greet the new fear protégé.

"Nice to see a new face around these parts," Pitch had no need to raise his voice since the woods had fallen quiet and most beings and animals were asleep. "Curious about me were you?"

He half hoped Slenderman would rise to the 'face' pun and Pitch would get an enjoyable argument out of this but silence reigned forwards once more.

"No matter, curious or not; either way I have business to attend to," Pitch answered himself and without another word he turned dismissively and strolled into the village and scanned the street.

Immediately picking out a bungalow that had some children's toys left on the front lawn. The wind behind shifted some rubbish on the floor making Pitch glance behind him.

He turned back to the house.

"GAH!" Pitch yelped and back pedalled a few steps away from Slender who had teleported, a few inches, in front of him without warning.

For a split second as he collected himself, Pitch felt anger but it quickly gave way to mirth as he took control of the situation back and laughed.

"I must say it's been quite some time since anyone has gotten a sound like **_that_** out of me," he chuckled mirthfully.

Slender said nothing and did not move.

"This is tiresome, I know enough of you and you seen you in enough dreams to know that you never speak and you stalk children and catch, kill or whatever it is you do," Pitch waved a hand at him. "I am not human nor a child so forgive my confusion at wondering **_why_** you are here stalking **_me_**."

Pitch posed no question, he spoke of fact.

Slenderman took a small step forward, vaguely surprising Pitch but nothing more.

"Oh so you do know how to walk by yourself, how lovely." He purred sarcastically with a sneer. "Maybe you can toddle off that way somewhere, away from me. Not that this hasn't been **_fascinating_**."

The pale spirit was then gone, teleported away and Pitch huffed at the spot where he had stood. It was strange how lonely Pitch felt sometimes only to meet someone else and be annoyed by them that he'd wish to be alone again.

The Boogeyman closed his eyes with a frown before opening them and continuing towards the bungalow where the shot of fear was needed; it didn't seem very uplifting now though.

Typical.


	5. Chapter 5

  
Why had he interfered?! Jack Frost of all people!

Pitch had returned to his lair to study the globe and maybe have a little relaxation time whilst the lights went out one by one now that Sandman was gone, his plan had fast forwarded a little as he hadn't planned on taking out the little guardian so soon. But the boogeyman was nothing if not adaptable.

At least one of those meddling idiots could fight back; the newest member it seems, had quite a hidden power.

But why?

Jack had said so himself that he was not close to the Guardians and they had never bothered themselves too much over his existence before all of this...

The frost spirit had mentioned teeth.

**_'You made it my fight when you stole those teeth!'_ **

"Ah," Pitch softly grinned to himself as he realised. "How lovely."

It was possible he hadn't known about memories within the teeth themselves at first, he doubted Tooth had ever visited him; she hadn't left her palace in a good few centuries.

Pitch chuckled darkly as he turned to face the mountains of teeth boxes that littered his lair in massive piles.

His favoured Nightmare snorted a few feet away from him.

"You better get searching." Pitch glanced at the horse; smiling.


	6. Chapter 6

****   


 It was one of those nights where Pitch wanted to taste something blander than a child's fear. Nothing too sickly sweet about monsters, something realistic and normally boring was what he felt like today. Fear of an adult.

Which led him to Britain; twenty three year old girl. Pitch smiled darkly in anticipation; this girl had that many insecurities, it was going to be beautiful. All he had to do was add a small pinch of fear and her own depression would spiral it straight down, what to choose from?

Her mother preferring her older sister over her? Fear of being alone for the rest of her life? Of being a virgin forever? Fear of embarrassing herself? Fear of getting a job? Having others call her ugly or fat? Worrying about money? About her parents stealing her money? Her mother finding out about her OCD or depression?

A lot of these stemmed about her mother; Pitch could already see her worst fears in his own mind showing him exactly why this girl felt so. He tapped his chin thoughtfully as though choosing from a menu.

So many to choose from ...

The girl rolled over, still hugging her pillow and holding it to her, burying her face into it as though it were a real person lying there with her. He could see enough to know she did this every night.

Pitch quickly pushed away any thought or feeling about such things and simply decided to let pot luck be a deciding factor for tonight.

As there was no dream sand above her head, Pitch used his own; with a graceful motion he wafted his hand over her head and his dark sand reacted instantly; forming into a scene of her and two of her friends; boy and girl sat in some form of small restaurant.

Pitch stood and waited patiently for whatever the fear was to rise from the situation; he smirked cheekily anticipation.

Her friends talked happily to one another as they ate sushi, the girl was sat opposite them both; noticeably not eating nor looking very happy. Pitch felt and heard her feelings and thoughts of wondering why they were sat there and thinking that she didn't like sushi when the fear that the Nightmare King had been waiting for slammed into him, her thoughts almost like a cry.

'If we're eating now it means we're not going to Wagamama's!'

Where? What? Pitch mouthed silently as frowned at this strange dream and then at her sleeping face. What came next was her feelings of not being able to say anything as she didn't want to seem bossy or selfish and it was for the next minute with Pitch stood there, frowning, amazed at this weird so called nightmare that he hesitantly flicked his hand up and withdrew his sand.

The mortal woke up instantly with a sharp intake of breath, she gazed at the ceiling in the darkness of her room and Pitch stood, waiting.

Finally even she looked confused and she obviously mulled over her dream.

"Oh thank fuck, it wasn't real," She whispered to herself with a relieved giggle.

"What?!" Pitch shook his head as though to clear it, his mouth agape in an horror-struck manner.

She flopped back down into bed, hugged her pillow and pulled the quilt over head and drifted right back off.

The Boogeyman stood next to the bed still.

"What. Was. That?!" He snarled. "Are you serious?!"

He bent down to where her head vaguely was to yell but of course she had no idea he was there.

"I can't- I don't- What?!" He gibbered, now thoroughly pissed off. "Of all things to get worried and upset about? Depression, anxiety, sex, money, family and _that is the nightmare that leaped out of your subconscious?!_ "

"Forget it!" Pitch flung his hands up in the arm, completely flabbergasted. "This is what wonder and light brought then I'm glad I don't get out much to see this disaster!"

With that he stormed back into the shadows.


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

 

"Happy Easter, Jack." Pitch taunted the boy before leaving him in the Easter Tunnels to discover what had happened and to wait for the argument to push Frost away.

Pitch materialised back into his shadowy home and glanced back up to the one free fairy hovering near her sisters; holding their hands through the bars and squeaking frantically.

The Boogeyman chuckled darkly; alerting to them all he had returned back and Jack had gone. The fear that emitted from this one fairy was delicious as she spun round immediately, the terror clear on her bird-like face.

Maybe he should keep this one on hand since Jack seemed to care about this one so much; you never know when you may need leverage and Jack still might not co-operate even after the Guardians outcast him.

 

 

 

Pitch melded back into the shadows as the fairy fled; urged on my her sisters screaming for her to fly away now.

"This is my home, fairy. If I don't want you to leave, you can't," Pitch laughed cruelly as he moved the shadows to disorientate her so she collided with a wall.

She peeped in alarm as her little hands patting the wall in distress and disbelief as she realised her situation; she spun round when she spotted his shadow on that same wall only to see he wasn't there but his shadow was.

Baby-Tooth fled once more despite all the walls she kept half hitting as Pitch transported her from shadow to shadow; laughing all the way. He had time to spare whilst Frost got yelled at.

After a few more minutes of this one sided game Pitch finally snatched her out of mid air; scaring her more since he came, quite literally, out of nowhere. Her fear was kind of adorable but he imagined it would get irritating after a while...

He simply stared at her in his hand for a few seconds as struggled helplessly until she realised how futile it was, she couldn't even move her head to peck herself free from his large hand. It was so weird, Pitch pondered, how small a creature and yet how much of a difference they all made in numbers.

No matter, he was close to winning now.

Maybe he could even get Jack on his side...


	8. Chapter 8

****

It was around four in the morning when Pitch decided to quit early for the night after he had gathered more sand from one of his, rare and few, believers.

Pitch had felt a wave of satisfaction as the boys nightmare unfurled into one of him specifically, granting a uncommon happy smile from him. He left the nightmare to its own work and turned, about to leave via shadow from the wardrobe when his believer woke unexpectedly from his Boogeyman based nightmare to a loud wail from the next room.

The boy jerked awake now from slumber, huffed and went to roll back over and to sleep once more. Too dark for him to have seen Pitch unless he had spoken or stepped closer, and this from the child's reaction must be a regular occurrence.

In an annoyed and yet curious way, Pitch shadow hopped into the next room and up through the shadow of another bed in there.

A thirteen year old girl who had still got too much make up plastered on her face despite how tired she looked in the glow from the light from a tiny screen. She was grasping her phone with both hands and wailing so high that Pitch grimaced and took a step back.

She paused to actually breathe before wiping her nose on her sleeve, the only light source fading and then sobbing a bit more as she frantically typed out a message to someone.

Pitch had been aware of mobile phones as they had come out not long ago and he leaned forward to read this message.  
  
She had terrible grammar; the only part Pitch could understand was something about 'how could you do this to me?' and that wasn't spelt well. Numbers used and words shortened to letters...

It was a particular loud howl of despair which rattled Pitch's left eardrum causing him to wrench himself back up to full height and clap his hands over his ears.

"Will you **_SHUT. UP_** _!"_ He snarled; uncaring of the fact she couldn't see or hear him as it made him feel better anyway. "Stupid, pathetic, blubbering child!"

The girl kept on bawling as Pitch marched over to her door and flung it open with excessive force, it hit the wall with such a bang and the girl's cry and morphed to a scream of shock and fear at her door opening by itself, and so violently at that.

Well at least Pitch got _something_ for his flaming trouble.

"For goodness sake; melodramatic teenagers..." Pitch complained loudly; waving a hand in the air as he stomped down the stairs; feeling the panic from the two kids who could hear all this, and made sure to kick open the dining room door too since he the front one was locked before he shadow skipped away.

%MCEPASTEBIN%


	9. Chapter 9

"Oh, you beautiful girl," Pitch cooed over his newest nightmare who stood at full height; finally he had managed to gather enough sand to make them bigger than ponies.

He stroked the side of her smooth, hardened, sandstone face as he stared, almost lovingly, into her flame-like eyes as she nickered gently at him in response.

Now this was a good milestone, he was still far from having an army of them but Pitch was a quick learner and it had gotten easier and easier, despite the lengthy time it took getting small piles of sand from each child.

His nightmares could be smaller; but at this point Pitch wanted big and intimidating. To tower over the guardians and children as he did.

The small girl he had gotten the sand from to complete this one nightmare, whimpered in her sleep at the presence of both; the nightmare and the Boogeyman himself. Pitch had been so excited to finally finish one horse, he hadn't even bothered to leave her lilac room; her doll house and toys scattered all around, darkness of night enveloping her purple and flowery wallpaper, teddy bears stickers and kitten posters.

The night had always been his in shadows and fear, he hadn't been this strong in ages and it made Pitch smile happily.

His mere presence causing fear.

A sudden prickle of disturbance wiped his smile right off his face and he spun round.

"Urgh, you again," Pitch spat.

Slenderman stood in the corner of the room silently and seemingly watching Pitch, yet again.

"I am quite sure this is no coincidence given how many children there are in this world and of all the houses..." He sneered and gestured at the spirit who gave no answer.

The nightmare stood uncertainly beside her master, looking to and fro from the different scents of power and fear. She whickered softly and nipped at Pitch's shoulder who, without looking, stroked her muzzle calmingly.

The sleeping child rolled over with an unhappy whine however she was ignored by the two spirits occupying her room, only the horse spared her a glance but the other two, who stared at one another in silence, did nothing. The Boogeyman waited a few more seconds before concurring the other wasn't going to talk anytime soon.

"I have not missed your enthralling conversation," Pitch said with a pout.

Out of nowhere Slender flexed a hand; a movement so small that it would've gone unnoticed on anyone else but with such a quiet and still spirit and in such close proximity... Pitch glanced down at the, now still again, gloved hand and back up to the blank, white face, his own expression just as impassive.

"Weirdo."

The mare let out a snorting neigh of laughter which made Pitch grin.

"Let's go, girl." Pitch chuckled and gave her one last adoring stroke before making her dissolve in a whirlwind of black sand that, purposely, cuffed Slenderman (who still stood mutely in the corner) round the head, grains bouncing off his unnervingly still frame.

With a laugh, both nightmare sand and Pitch disappeared.

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

"Oh for goodness sake," Pitch shook his head pityingly at the four grown-up's who now sat in a circle round a table that Pitch slowly strolled round; hands clasped lazily behind his back.

"Is there anyone there? Tell us your name!" One man imploringly asked thin air.

"Pitch Black and what happened to not ever asking any spirit or devil their name?" The Boogeyman questioned with a snort even though his words went unnoticed amongst the adults.

"This is stupid, mom." A gangly boy, must be just out of his teens Pitch guessed, drawled at his mother, obviously finding this irritating.

The mother shushed him and clutched a cross in her hand.

As boring and tedious as Pitch found these little exorcisms or 'speak to the dead' sessions to be, every now and then he liked to make a show for these frauds. Most people are afraid of death, ghosts, hell and the unexplained.

"Please!" The man spoke loudly. "Let us know you are here."

"I'm heeeeere," Pitch sang into the silence.

"Mom, she's not possessed or haunted, for fuck's sa-"

"Don't you swear in this house!" She hissed angrily. "I believe in the Lord and the Lord will help us, help her; your sister."

"She had some bad nightmares and saw a person; she was still half asleep, she's five, mom!" A woman, maybe in her mid twenties, sniffed disapprovingly.

"I'm sensing something!" The man said nosily to pull the attention back to him.

Between the bickering Pitch had moved and was now lounging on the settee just behind the 'ghost whisperer' or whatever it was they called them these days.

"Well, you took your time," He replied playfully.

"Mom-"

"Dante." She shushed him warningly through gritted teeth.

"Befitting name," Pitch said, uncrossing his legs to stretch them out and 'accidently' nudged the table leg.

The spike of fear from the mother and the faint alarm from two of them was lovely.

The young sister in question was upstairs playing with a doll house, currently having no clue as to her mother's paranoia about spirits and whatnot. Honestly, let a child see you for a few seconds and the moment the parents find out they fly off the handle.

"We know you're here!"

Pitch rolled his eyes.

However droll and quite frankly, pathetic it was; fear was fear and it all mattered to Pitch given his waning power and besides, if this idiot wanted a good show then he'd give him one to give them all nightmares forever.

The Nightmare King stretched the shadow out of the couch underneath him and teleported to the child's room above them all. He stayed in shadow form as he watched this young girl with corn coloured hair playing in a stream of sunlight from her window; chattering happily to her dolls and she pretended they had their own lives.

Her name was Megan and she was a good little believer of his. If he had enough strength like he used to have he would've taken her long before now, she would make a pretty little dark princess.

For a split second a sudden wave of mild sadness and longing washed over Pitch but it was gone the moment he saw an opening.

Megan had scooted her dolls back to the doll house which had the entire front part open like a giant door so a child could easily access all the rooms; the front of the house had now blocked Pitch's view of her and so he crept forward on the floor; grinning in delight.

The five year old was crouched on her knees and elbows as she fiddled with taking off one of the dolls dresses.

She had seen him only at night hence why she seemed so happy and at peace in the day, in full sunlight no less. This is why Pitch had waited a few days to make her feel as though daytime was safe before appearing like he was about to.

"Hello, Megan," Pitch's soft and smooth voice sounded pleasantly.

She whipped her head to look to her right and got a full view of Pitch's face peering at her through one of the doll's windows, his big gold and silver eyes crinkling a little as he smiled at her, it grew to a smirk as he felt the fear surging through her. For few seconds she made no noise until Pitch slowly curled one hand round the side of the front of the house that curtained him from her and pulled it further back, it brushed against the carpet and suddenly he was face to face with her.

He had moved so suddenly that her trance was broken and she burst into an hysterical scream.

It felt beautiful all that fear from her and the alarm and fright from her mother and siblings downstairs complimented it so well.

Megan fled past Pitch, out her room and down the stairs, her partially undressed doll now forgotten. Pitch picked it up; he hadn't even bothered to move; stretched out on his stomach, one hand propping up his chin and the other was fiddling with the doll.

 He looked so out of place her room with dolls and bears, sprawled like a cat in the sunshine. Pitch listened to Megan babbling about seeing the Boogeyman in her room and the tromping of footsteps as the 'professional' came up to sort it out.

"Are you in here?" He asked, entering the room slowly.

"Yeah," Pitch answered, kicking up his feet and crossing them as he flicked the doll across the room.

The human jumped quite spectacularly.

"You really have no idea about these sorts of things do you?" The woman from downstairs was stood in the doorway.

"I have been trained for encounters like-"

"Oh, 'encounters'." She sneered.

Pitch liked her. She was wrong but the way this guy was going about it was also wrong, and embarrassing. May as well get them both.

With a cheerful smirk, Pitch leaped to his feet gracefully and went to walk past the three story high doll house, his hand came out and pulled it backwards; the whole thing crashed to the floor as tiny plates and cup smashed against one another.

The man let out a screech and the woman merely gasped as she clutched her heart in shock.

"Whoops."

Pitch slammed the shutters outside the window closed with a wave of his hand; the room half dark with slithers of light coming through.

"Whoops again."

The door closed behind them with a sudden bang.

"I'm very clumsy today."

"Who the hell said that?!"

"...Me."

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

Pitch was strolling past the barbed wire fences, grinning widely at all the fear that the prisoners were emitting. Such an idyllic scene; beautiful woods and trees, sunlight gleaming down, fear in the air that never lifted from these camps.

One guard grabbed one of the men up and half dragged him over to another line of men where he dumped him down roughly.

Ah, an execution line. Pitch thought interestingly. He loved how the fear escalated by each person and the last to be shot was usually so utterly terrified after watching all his fellow men die begging for their lives.

The Boogeyman stood next to one of the guards, one of the commanding officers judging from the many badges he wore, he leaned over to view the clip board of names but it meant nothing to him so he waltzed over to the last man on the right who was knelt, whimpering on the floor.

Pitch knelt and cooed in his ear. "This is going to hurt, so much. They are going to shoot you, life is over, throw you in a pit with thousands of other corpses..."

His mere words flared up such panic within the man at the promise of pain and death; he lost all sense and scrambled to his feet in a terror as he tried, futilely, to flee when he was shot down in seconds, the prisoner hadn't even made it anywhere near the fence.

Pitch was openly laughing as the fear was now tenfold from some of them.

He strolled a bit further on, giggling still on the high of all the power, when he caught sight of the women's camp.

His happy chuckle tapered off when a little girl seemed to catch his attention; she had short dark brown hair and brown eyes, wearing a bland shirt and shorts and her hair had been cut short badly as it framed her sweet porcelain face which was teary, unhappy and scared.

It touched something deep within the Boogeyman, something that he didn't like as his gut twisted with sadness and he felt the urge to run over and hold her.

Without realising he took a few steps towards her; his hand reaching out to her and his fingers brushed the metal of the fence, feeling the coldness of the barrier he snatched his hand back and stuffed his emotions away.

It was just a girl.

He then jumped when a siren blared out deafeningly, he pouted at it in a dignified manner despite that no one obviously saw him leap up in the air in obvious alarm; most of the children here had bigger worries than monsters under the bed.

The horror and panic of the adults alerted Pitch to what was happening; they were terrified as they weren't sure what this meant to them, they had already been separated from their husbands, sons and fathers. But Pitch knew, he knew most women and children that were too young were usually taken straight to be killed.

All the women and children were bustled in a line, crying and hugging, and herded down out the guarded gates to another building. Pitch walk alongside the child and her mother the whole time; he knew this happened but he had never actually gone down there to watch it all happen for himself, the gas would not affect him at all. He'd only seen nightmare versions of it from others, who had obviously not been down there or else they wouldn't be there for Pitch to be feeding off of.

Pitch did not speak to incite fear, no one broke the line to try and run, no begging for their lives or the lives of their children; they were all so downtrodden even though it must've only been a few hours since they had gotten off the train that brought them here, Pitch almost felt pity for them.

It was well into war by now, they must know, Pitch thought curiously searching their faces in the crowd and he stopped as they were all hustled into a bunker of sorts that had showerheads littered here and there on the wall, they were all wailing now; certain that they were to be killed, and they were right.

Pitch hung back at the end of the line where he looked at an officer who nodded and waved to another, the Boogeyman took that as him giving the order to gas them when the doors closed.

That girl, that little girl...

 

 

Pitch shadow hopped into the chamber with them, frantically searching for her as he stood taller than everyone, uncaring of those who he walked straight through. He spotted her squished into the corner with her mother clinging to her on the floor, appearing over there he knelt down to look at her face, his hands held out uncertainly as though to frame her face.

She looked and was scared however it was more because everyone was else was terrified, she honestly had no clue what was happening or why they were down here. Her eyes scanned over everyone else before for a split second she looked straight into Pitch's eyes, Pitch stared back in shock and he vaguely heard the doors close and everything turned dark and the screaming started.

Before anything else happened he wrenched her from her mother's arms in the darkness and into his own, holding her close as though she were his...

...His darkling Princess.

And her black eyes were beautiful.


	12. Chapter 12

Pitch walked into one of his regulars spots for fear; just a little town off the coast of Singapore, a small bungalow with two bedrooms. A four year old girl shared her room with her seventeen year old brother which Pitch found a little weird but from the looks of things, they couldn't afford much.

And Pitch was unfortunate enough to stroll in one night only to catch an eyeful of the brother and some girl in the middle of the room, on the floor.

He walked out of the shadow under the sister's bed and froze at the sight before recoiling with a horrified expression.

" ** _Ugh_**! Ohhh, _what?!"_ Pitch spat, outraged as he turned round and headed straight back under the bed. "You vile teenagers!"

He popped back into his lair with a dramatic flair, alarming several nightmares and making them stop and stare in surprise as their master appeared in mid-rant.

"-Right there on the floor!"


	13. Chapter 13

"Hey, Boogeyman!" A small child shouted under a bed, legs poking out as he waggled them in the air impatiently.

"Mikahil, stop it." His friend; small and meek with sandy hair pleaded with him, he stuck his head out from under the bed.

"Nothing's gonna happen, there's no such thing." Mikhail snorted and jammed his top half back under the bed frame.

They were in his Mikhail's mother's room, under the double bed with the curtains and door closed, it wasn't really dark as the sun shined through the curtains but under the bed the shadow was black.

Alex stood just behind the other boy's feet, near the door, fidgeting nervously.

"I'll go home if you don't come out."

"Shut up, Alex." The boy said meanly.

"I'll tell your mum what you're doing." Alex threatened again, weakly.

With an irritated huff as though the other were stupid, Mikhail turned his head back to his friend.

"There's no such thing, no one here. Why are you such a baby," he said unkindly. "We're eight not five."

"Stop being horrible!"

"Stop being a big baby! There's no such-"

A long fingered grey hand appeared from under the bed and grabbed Mikhail's wrist and roughly yanked him fully under the bed, the boy didn't have time to make any noise other than a surprised gasp as Alex screamed in terror and wrenched the door open; screaming for his friend's mother.

Mikhail blinked, completely petrified in the darkness as Pitch chuckled amusedly, the noise seeming to come from all around the child who shook in terror.

"Convinced, Mikhail?"

The genuine scream of fear was so uplifting that Pitch threw his head back and drank it all in, his laugh echoing happily alongside Mikhail's fright. He drew his arms around the terrified child, darkness drawing in around them both and the screaming stopped, the echo petered out, bouncing off the walls.

Silence, a small shadow the size of a child that seemed to originate from the darkness itself; its skin black like ink and it's eyes hollow and white with a mouth that shaped of sorrow. The noise it made was a quiet cry, like that of a small girl.

Pitch looked up and smiled, he held out a hand to beckon it over, another creature that looked almost identical was sat on the Nightmare King's lap, an odd like thin, ink-like appendage holding onto Pitch's large, grey hand.

"Say hello to your new brother, my little Princess." Pitch cooed as the two fearlings circled one another.

 

A Prince, Princess and a King.

Pitch smiled at his children in the dark.

 


End file.
